


A Simple Phone call

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [39]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8566366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: The prompt for this story was:- In the prologue of the episode 'The Hula Doll Affair', Illya is in a bunker with an unnamed female UNCLE scientist waiting for the outside temperature to reach 90 degrees so he can observe the M4 explosive detonate. He seems quite attracted to her, even commenting that it is getting warm in there to which she replies, "Thank you." She is never seen or mentioned again. The question is: What if Illya had acted on his attraction?





	

Illya Kuryakin, ex intelligence officer, dangerous U.N.C.L.E. agent and supposed ice prince, chewed on his lower lip as he stared at the piece of paper in his hand. The string of numbers written on it could play a small part in his future, if he allowed them too. Standing up from the sofa, on which he'd only just sat, he resumed the pacing of his sitting room. The pacing had begun ten minutes previously, with slight pauses whenever he passed the telephone. As he neared the device, yet again, he reached out his hand to pick up the receiver, only to withdraw it and return to traversing the room.

"Get a grip, Illya Nickovitch," he muttered to himself. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Reaching the telephone for the umpteenth time, Illya finally snatched up the receiver and dialled the number on the paper. The call was answered after three rings.

"Carolyn Grady?"

"Miss Grady, this is Illya Kuryakin. I don't suppose you remember me?"

In her lab, Carolyn felt her knees weaken, and silently berated herself. Women hadn't fought to allow her into this responsible position just so she could gooey over a man. Admittedly, he was a gorgeous, intelligent and interesting man, but that was beside the point.

"Of course I remember you, Mr Kuryakin," she replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Did you have a question about the M4?"

For five, agonisingly long seconds, Illya forgot every word of every language he knew.

"Nyet," he finally blurted out.

Illya couldn't believe what a mess he was making of this. He could infiltrate satrapies without breaking a sweat, or con criminal gangs with very little effort, and it wasn't as though he hadn't asked a woman on a date before. What was it about this particular woman that caused his tongue to become paralysed, and his mouth to become drier than the Sahara? His thoughts drifted to the tight yellow dress she'd been wearing the day he'd met her. Every curve was accentuated to perfection. Then there were those lips. Those full, glistening lips . . .

"Mr Kuryakin? . . . Illya?"

"Sorry," he pulled himself back to the conversation, such as it was. "Miss Grady . . ."

"Carolyn."

Illya took a deep a breath.

"Carolyn. I will be visiting your facility next week, and will be there for three days. I was wondering if I could take you out for dinner while I'm there."

She found herself sinking onto a chair. Carolyn hadn't been blind to his flirtations when he was there for the M4 test, but when he hadn't taken it further, she had pushed him to the back of her mind. Now, here he was on the phone, asking her out on a date.

"I would be delighted," she found her mouth replying, without bothering to consult her. "I shall look forward to seeing you next week.

Illya placed the receiver back into its cradle, and turned to figure sitting in his armchair. Napoleon had spent most of the day persuading Illya to call Miss Grady. In the end, he threatened not to leave the apartment until it was done. Solo had never seen his partner so hung up over a girl before, but knew Illya would hold back.

"Are you happy now, Napoleon?"

"Very much so, Partner Mine. More importantly, are you happy?"

The rare grin, which the Russian dazzled him with, told him everything he needed to know."


End file.
